


i've dug two graves for us, my dear

by nebulakoos



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (maybe some death oop), :), Angst, HungerGames!AU, I'm Sorry, Jeonghan is confused, M/M, Or am I, So much angst, and whipped, joshua is an angel, lowkey proud of this, one (1) kiss, so is joshua, some mild swearing, that you know of anyway, too pure for this harsh world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:44:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14247318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebulakoos/pseuds/nebulakoos
Summary: It wasn’t even as though Jeonghan had never thought about it. As though he hadn’t lain awake night after night, watching the display in the sky and counting the dead with a mixture of relief and all-consuming dread.Because he had. Every one of those nights, he had searched for Joshua’s face among the stars. Every night, it failed to appear. And Jeonghan was left with his feelings writhing like snakes, so damn happy that Joshua was alive, and so afraid.





	i've dug two graves for us, my dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [markohmark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/markohmark/gifts).



It wasn’t even as though Jeonghan had never thought about it. As though he hadn’t lain awake night after night, watching the display in the sky and counting the dead with a mixture of relief and all-consuming dread. 

 

Because he had. Every one of those nights, he had searched for Joshua’s face among the stars. Every night, it failed to appear. And Jeonghan was left with his feelings writhing like snakes, so damn happy that Joshua was alive, and so afraid.

 

He was always afraid, nowadays. Fear was what kept him going. He hunted for fear of starvation, built fires for fear of the cold. Watched for fear of being watched, and killed for the fear of being killed.

 

He wondered what his sister thought of him now. Reduced to his most primal instincts, barely scraping by. He hadn’t bathed in days, hadn’t eaten anything but bugs and leaves and tiny, bony birds for just as long. All that sophistication, all those manners his mother had drilled into him-- he couldn’t remember a single one now. None of them had helped him survive, so they were useless anyway.

 

He wondered how Joshua was doing. He knew it was wrong, thinking about another tribute like this, and so  _ much.  _ Especially someone from another district. Hell, he didn’t remember the name of the girl from his own district. Didn’t even know if she was alive. But Joshua-- he’d known him for, what, a couple months? And he couldn’t stop thinking about him.

 

Which was why Jeonghan watched the skies so closely. A part of him was always hoping Joshua might appear, so that Jeonghan could weep and then forget. Forget all about him and focus on survival.

 

But Joshua was better at this sick game than Jeonghan had expected him to be. Because he wasn’t dead yet, and they were the last ones left.

 

It had become time for Jeonghan to move on. Time to find a new location, a new hideout, because the Capitol was bound to be getting impatient. Sticking around here could mean his death.

 

It wasn’t like he even knew where he was going. He just… went. Being one of the last tributes left meant he didn’t have to watch his back so diligently, and his thoughts, left unoccupied, flitted to the memory of home. 

 

Home to some meant warmth, comfort, safety. To Jeonghan, it meant dingy floors, shuttered windows, that hideous china his mother refused to sell because it had “sentimental value”. It was the image of his sister crouched in the corner, legs too pale and too thin tucked up under a plaid men’s shirt. He remembered her stick-like limbs and sharp elbows, her flat chest and distended stomach. He remembered the hunger in her large, dark eyes, the tremor in her thin voice. Remembered the look on her face every time their mother came back empty-handed, weary, and silent, drifting through the doorway and up the stairs as if she had no more essence than a ghost. That, to him, was home.

 

Were they watching him? Sitting in some sympathetic neighbor’s house and following him across the screen as he quenched his thirst with silty river water, crammed beetles into his mouth for dinner, drained pus from his wounds? Or were they hiding away in their own home, unwilling to see the animal he’d become?

 

Thinking of home was painful, but it reminded him of what he was here for. To fight, to survive. To make it back home, victorious, and bring the spoils to his family. When he returned, he would make sure they never went hungry again.

~~~~

It was three days before he found Joshua. Or, really, before Joshua found  _ him. _

 

Jeonghan had been sitting by the bank of a river he’d stumbled across, washing the grime from his hair. Once, in better times, his hair had been soft and silken, a waterfall of silver spilling over his shoulders and attracting the attention of pretty much anyone with a pair of functioning eyes. Now, all the color had washed from his locks and left them pale and brittle and limp with dirt. He’d considered cutting it all off, but--

 

Well.

 

The point was, he hadn’t. So now he was stuck by the river, trying in vain to untangle the millions of knots that had turned his hair into a veritable rat’s nest. 

 

Either Joshua had somehow developed the ability to move silently or Jeonghan just hadn’t been paying enough attention to his surroundings, because he nearly toppled over into the river when he heard--

 

“Jeonghan?”

 

Of course, Joshua’s voice was still the most beautiful sound Jeonghan had ever heard. He hadn’t fared so well physically, however; the long month had taken its toll on him just as it had on Jeonghan. Joshua’s skin was now pale almost to translucency and drawn tight over his cheekbones, giving him the harrowed, unhealthy complexion of a corpse. His hair was dirty and stained with blood on one side, nothing like the soft peach pink cloud Jeonghan had slid his hands into those nights on the roof of the training center. Even his mouth, which had been so soft and small and sweet under Jeonghan’s own, had hardened into a thin line.

 

But his eyes were still full of light. Looking into them, Jeonghan felt like a sailor in a storm gazing up into the glow of a lighthouse. His heart, his foolish, childish, stupid heart, stumbled and tripped over itself and beat out a rhythm that threatened to break open his ribcage. After a month in hell, Joshua was still an angel in Jeonghan’s eyes.

 

“Hannie--” Joshua started forward, but Jeonghan was already surging up, pulling the other boy into his arms with a force that should have been impossible for someone as malnourished and weak as he. The two of them collapsed back into the river, barely feeling the cold of the water as they clutched each other. Jeonghan buried his nose into the crook of Joshua’s neck and breathed deeply, taking in the scent of his blood and sweat and the warmth of his body. It had been so long, too long, since he had been near another person, another human. Since he had felt so  _ safe.  _

 

A single thought bubbled to the surface of Jeonghan’s mind, dispelling the love-drunk haze clouding it. He pulled himself away from Joshua and staggered back through the water, a familiar pit of fear and nausea and self-disgust opening in his stomach.

 

“I’m sorry--” he gasped, mind still spinning, skin still tingling with the memory of Joshua’s touch. “I’m sorry, I don’t-- we can’t--”

 

Joshua stood in front of him, water dripping slowly from his hair and chin. His eyes were dark with sadness and… something else, something Jeonghan didn’t recognize. “Ah,” he said. “Of course.” He sounded so calm that Jeonghan wanted to scream.

 

Didn’t he understand that Jeonghan was here to  _ kill him?  _ That they were the last ones now, that it was down to them, that Jeonghan had no choice? He had to-- there was no way he’d survived this long by being  _ stupid.  _ So why wasn’t he running away, or pulling out his knife, or… 

 

His knife. Where was it? Jeonghan dug his hands into the pockets of his thin jacket, but they were empty. It had been in there not five seconds ago--

 

“Looking for this?” 

 

Jeonghan jerked his head up and stared at Joshua, smiling sadly and holding up the knife. Their eyes met and locked for a long moment before Joshua tucked the knife into his own pocket.

 

“This is the first time we’ve seen each other in a month, Hannie,” he said tiredly. “Can we not kill each other just yet?”

 

It took some time for Jeonghan to find his voice. “Yeah,” he finally managed to say. “Yeah, I… we can do that.” Shame washed over him, threatened to pull him under. He had just tried to  _ kill  _ Joshua, and yet Joshua wasn’t angry. Wasn’t the least bit upset about it. He was just standing there, smiling, holding out his hand to Jeonghan as if they were… back to whatever they had been before this. Back to normal.

 

Jeonghan was too tired to think about this, too emotionally drained to do anything but accept Joshua’s hand and hobble out of the river. His shoes squelched and stuck in the mud, almost pulling him down several times, but Joshua was always there to catch him. Always there, with his strong arms and warm hands and soft voice, coaxing open a flower of contentment in Jeonghan’s chest.

 

Why did it have to be Joshua, of all people? Why did he have to kill  _ Joshua? _

 

“I’ve holed up in a cave not far from the river,” Joshua was saying. “It’s pretty secluded. Well hidden, too, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore. I… have some food there, some supplies, med stuff too if you’ve got any injuries.”

 

Jeonghan nodded sleepily. “Sounds good,” he mumbled.

 

Joshua laughed softly. “Ah, I’m sorry. I forgot you’ve been travelling all day. We can rest for a few hours if you want and figure out dinner when we wake up.”

 

“You’re the boss.”

 

Joshua smiled and squeezed Jeonghan’s hand. “I know we’re the last ones left,” he said. “And I don’t mean to be dramatic or anything... but a part of me is glad it’s you. That we can have one last moment to ourselves before it all comes crashing down.”

 

“We’re not alone,” Jeonghan reminded him drowsily. “The Capitol is always watching.”

 

“Yes,” Joshua said. “But I’m not sure I care anymore.”

  
~~~

The cave was, as Joshua had said, small and almost perfectly hidden behind a curtain of ivy. With its close proximity to the river and its isolation from any open ground, it was perhaps the most perfect hideout one could wish for in the arena.

 

“How did you find it?” Jeonghan asked as they entered. “How did the Gamemakers  _ let  _ you find it?”

 

Joshua shrugged. “I actually found it yesterday morning. I thought, you know, since we were the last ones, it might be better to get moving. And then I stumbled upon this beauty.”

 

“And they haven’t done anything to you? To chase you away, or hurt you, or something?”

 

“Why would they?” Joshua said, smiling bitterly. “The Capitol loves confrontation. They must have seen you heading towards me and baited me into staying with a good shelter for once.” He shook his head. “Ah, it doesn’t matter now. Let’s just get inside.”

 

Jeonghan nodded, his eyelids fluttering as he did so. It was harder than it should have been just to stay conscious; everything that had happened to him over the past month and everything to come had joined together and were resting upon his shoulders. He felt like he’d been encased in concrete and thrown into the sea, steadily sinking to his death with no way to save himself. 

 

Except there was a way. And thinking about made Jeonghan feel like he was drowning all the more quickly.

 

He turned his head to see that Joshua was looking at him, his dark eyes like pools of ink with tiny specks of light scattered in them, and the intensity of his gaze kindled something in the pit of Jeonghan’s stomach. He’d forgotten this feeling, like balancing on the edge of a cliff during a thunderstorm, with the ocean waves whipped up in a frenzy hundreds of feet below him and the knowledge that one misstep could send him tumbling into them. It was terrifying and wonderful and now that Jeonghan remembered it, he couldn’t imagine living without it.

 

A slight pressure on Jeonghan’s head pulled him from his thoughts. Joshua’s fingers were resting lightly against the damp strands, and he wore an almost wistful expression.

 

“I’d forgotten how beautiful your hair is,” he said softly, and slid his fingers into Jeonghan’s locks.

 

Jeonghan froze. Every nerve in his body was alight and sparking, overloading his brain with so many sensations and emotions he couldn’t think straight. Joshua’s fingers were warm on his scalp, his neck. His breath ghosted over the small section of skin Jeonghan’s shirt left exposed. He might as well have lit Jeonghan on fire.

 

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said after a few moments, withdrawing his hand and stepping away. “I… I don’t know what got into me.”

 

“It’s fine,” Jeonghan choked out. “It’s… I’m good.”

 

Joshua smiled slightly, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why don’t you sleep?” he suggested. “You look drained, and we’ve still got a little time before we need to start worrying about dinner.”

 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said. “Yeah. I’ll do that.”

  
~~~  
  


It felt like only a few seconds later that Jeonghan woke up, but the shadows had lengthened considerably. Joshua was sitting by the mouth of the cave, legs tucked up to his chest and chin resting between his knees. He looked so small, so fragile in the fading light of the sun. A breath of wind tousled his hair and Jeonghan felt the inexplicable urge to brush it back down. 

 

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, his voice scratchy and hoarse. 

 

Joshua turned to look at him, his face hidden by the shadows. “Hey. How did you sleep?”

 

“Good.” Jeonghan crawled over to the mouth of the cave and sat beside Joshua. “I… really needed that. Thanks.”

 

Joshua smiled and turned away, his eyes focusing once more through a part in the ivy curtain. In this light, he looked so much like the boy Jeonghan had met in the training center that his heart ached with longing. 

 

For the first few days of training, Joshua had simply been a beautiful boy, just like any, a distant and unknown specimen of high aesthetic value. Jeonghan had never talked to him, never come within ten feet of him. He preferred to do his stalking from a safe distance. 

 

The other tributes were more forward. They watched him and flirted with him and offered their friendships on silver platters, but Joshua always turned them down. He was very… Jeonghan didn’t know exactly. He seemed kind and open and friendly, but there was always a sort of cool politeness in his expressions, his words, his body language, that isolated him subtly from the others.

 

On the fourth day, Jeonghan had been watching him when suddenly Joshua looked up and caught his eye. They’d stared at each other for a long moment before Jeonghan had dropped his gaze and gone back to his pitiful knot-tying.

 

The next day, Joshua came up to him at the fire-starting station, where Jeonghan was trying and failing to catch his kindling on fire. “Hold your wrist at more of an angle,” he said, kneeling down and taking Jeonghan’s wrist in his hand, guiding it to the correct position. Jeonghan’s heart nearly beat out of his chest, but if Joshua noticed his rapid pulse, he said nothing.

 

The next time they spoke was three days later, when Joshua made his way to the weapon stations. The Career pack reigned supreme there, but Joshua didn’t seem to care. He just chose his weapons and began practicing.

 

The Careers were vicious, but they never bothered Jeonghan, the weakling from District 9 who didn’t seem to be good at anything and looked like a girl with that silver hair of his, anyway. Joshua, however, they noticed, because Joshua was the only one outside the Careers who could actually get his knife to stick to the target. And so he became  _ their _ target.

 

Jeonghan couldn’t do anything while they beat Joshua up, but he made sure to catch Joshua as he left the center. 

 

“Be less obviously good,” he hissed. “Be less of a threat to them, and they won’t hurt you.”

 

Joshua looked at him, eyes lidded and dark with pain. After a moment, he nodded.

 

They stuck together after that, working their way around the stations and making sure to perform no better than any of the other non-Career tributes. At night, they snuck out to the rooftop and practiced hand-to-hand combat with butter knives stolen from dinner. They helped each other, watched each other’s backs, and slowly but surely, fell in love.

 

Jeonghan kissed him on the twelfth night. They had finished practice and were sitting on the slope of the roof, breathing in the cool night air and tracing out the constellations with their eyes. Joshua’s hand was resting next to Jeonghan’s, his fingers brushing the side of Jeonghan’s hand and sending shivers up his spine.

 

“I’m going to miss this sky,” Joshua said softly. “In the arena.”

 

Jeonghan turned to look at him, drinking in the sight of moonlight playing on his cheekbones, the fine edges of his hair, the curve of his cupid’s bow. “There’ll be a sky in the arena, you know.”

 

“Yeah,” Joshua sighed. “But… I don’t know. It won’t be the same.”

 

Jeonghan laughed. “Shua-yah, you won’t even be able to tell the difference. It’ll look the exact same.”

 

Joshua leaned back and sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. Sometimes I just get frustrated. With- everything.”

 

“Frustrated?”

 

Only frustrated?

 

Joshua exhaled. “I know it’s stupid, but-”

 

“It’s not stupid!” 

 

Jeonghan’s words were a little… louder than he’d intended, but he’d just wanted Joshua to shut up for second and  _ think.  _ The other tributes faked bravado in the training center and cried in their beds for home at night, and here was Joshua, acting like it was  _ weird  _ to be upset with his situation, as if being forced to fight for your life against twenty-three other kids and being angry about it was an overreaction. Joshua had come from District 4, which, with its sprawling beaches and glittering sapphire waves, was one of the most naturally beautiful districts. Of course he would find it hard to adjust to the Capitol’s flashy, manufactured facade. Jeonghan didn’t understand why he considered his negative emotions to be a fault, even if they were righteous. 

 

“Ah, Hannie-” Joshua’s voice was soft, muted. “I’m sorry, you didn’t ask for this-”

 

Jeonghan grabbed his hand and clutched it tight in his own. “Joshua-”

 

“And I know I’m being overdramatic-”

 

“Joshua, oh my god- _”_

 

“I’m just so tired of nothing ever being _real_ in this place-”

 

“Joshua!” Jeonghan reached out and clamped his hand over Joshua’s mouth. “Will you please  _ shut up!” _

 

Joshua stared at him, eyes wide with surprise, but when Jeonghan removed his hand, he remained silent. 

 

“Listen,” Jeonghan said, struggling to keep his voice quiet. “There is nothing wrong with being angry, okay? I’m angry. Every tribute in the damn place is angry, except for maybe the Careers. All those people back home, slaving and starving for the Capitol, they’re  _ angry.  _ And we all have a right to be.”

 

It was perhaps the most impassioned, rebellious thing Jeonghan had ever dared to say, but it felt right. Joshua was looking at him with wonder and something else, something that burned hot and dark in the center of his eyes. 

 

“Besides,” Jeonghan continued, something in him made reckless by the look on Joshua’s face. “Not everything here is fake, Shua-yah. We’re real.”

 

The words were out before Jeonghan could stop himself, but they were the truth. They were real. This… whatever it was, whatever was between them, whatever Jeonghan felt when he looked at Joshua, it was  _ real.  _ Nothing made by the Capitol to manipulate them. This was theirs alone.

 

Joshua looked at him, lips parted. The stars reflected in his eyes, and Jeonghan felt unsteady looking into them. He was so beautiful it hurt. And Jeonghan knew he’d waited long enough.

 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Joshua’s. 

 

For an instant, that’s all it was: Jeonghan’s lips against Joshua’s, neither of them moving or breathing. Then, slowly, Joshua’s mouth opened up under Jeonghan’s, and… 

 

It was like living. Really, really living, as though Jeonghan had never lived before. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined, more than anything the Capitol could ever dream to create. This was something wholly pure and beautiful and theirs, all theirs. Joshua was  _ his,  _ his to hold and kiss and love. 

 

Jeonghan had never known such happiness, and he never wanted it to end.

 

But of course it had. Everything had to end. The kiss, the nights on the roof, then training. They did well in the final test, Jeonghan pulling a decent 7 and Joshua a 9, good enough for sponsorships in both cases. There was a whirlwind of interviews afterwards, both boys putting on carefully constructed facades of contentment and friendly competition. The Capitol was watching the tributes closely now, which meant no more rooftop rendezvouses, no more secretive kisses and swallowed laughter. The most between them were a few longing glances and light touches as they passed each other in the halls.

 

And then they were in the arena, and whatever was between them was done. It was life or death now. No time for happiness. No time for love. 

 

A light touch on Jeonghan’s arm jerked him back to reality. “Tell me something,” Joshua said to him softly. “District 9. No one ever talks about 9; you guys farm, right?”

 

“Uh-” Jeonghan hesitated, distracted by the warmth of Joshua’s fingers on his arm. “Yeah. Among other things.”

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Just because.” Joshua’s tone was light, airy, but there was something off about him. His expression was too calm, uncannily so. As if he was trying just a little too hard to keep it that way.

 

Jeonghan furrowed his brows. “You know that’s not a reason.”

 

“Why do I need a reason to ask about your district?”

 

_ Because you never have before,  _ Jeonghan thought.  _ And because something isn’t right with you.  _ Tentatively, he spoke: “Are you feeling okay, Shua-yah?”   
  


Something sparked in Joshua’s eyes at the endearment, but it was gone as suddenly as it had come. “Of course,” he said, and the cheerfulness in his voice was so overdone that Jeonghan felt sick with worry. “Calm down, Hannie, I’m was just asking.”

 

_ No,  _ Jeonghan thought, _ you were demanding.  _

 

“I just don’t see why it matters so much.”

 

“Jeonghan-”

 

Something had happened while he was asleep. Something big, too, because Joshua had never acted like this before. He was… off-kilter, unsteady, his eyes dark with something dangerous and unknown. There was something very wrong.

 

And if Jeonghan had been a better person, he would have pushed at the point, nagged until Joshua finally gave in and revealed what was troubling him. And then Jeonghan would help him, somehow, and clear that haunted expression from his features. 

 

But Jeonghan was not that person. Besides, he was tired and scared and homesick and even though he  _ knew  _ Joshua wasn’t asking about his home just to pass the time, he still longed to tell him. It was far too easy to accept Joshua’s forced excuses and ignore the shadows lurking in his eyes and Jeonghan, swallowing his guilt, did just that.

 

The shadows hid the expression on Joshua’s face as Jeonghan spoke, but he listened. And listened and listened, as Jeonghan told him of the sprawling fields of home, of the dust that got into everything and turned everyone the same shade of brown no matter how much they washed. He listened to how Jeonghan and his friends competed to harvest the most, and how he’d won eventually with 450 pounds but could barely sleep that night from the soreness of his muscles. 

 

He listened to stories of Jeonghan’s little sister, of her sweet smile and cheeks like rice cakes that slowly hollowed out as they had less and less to eat. He listened to how the drought drained the life out of the district, how people would stand in the streets and watch the sky for hours in hope of a single rain cloud. He listened to how it had felt for Jeonghan to see the people around him shrivel like dying flowers, like the crops whose browned and dried corpses littered the field. 

 

By the time Jeonghan finished, both his throat and heart ached. The cave was almost pitch dark now, and he could only just make out Joshua’s silhouette in the dim light: slender, straight, all fine lines and sharp edges. He could not see his face.

 

“I’m sorry,” said Joshua. 

 

Jeonghan shook his head; then, realizing Joshua couldn’t see him, he said, “Don’t be.”

 

“Why not.”

 

“Because it’s not all bad,” said Jeonghan. “The drought ended about a month before the Reaping. The district’s putting itself back together. They even raised money to sponsor me.”

 

Joshua blew out a small breath. “They’re probably rooting for you, huh.”

 

“Yeah,” Jeonghan said, staring down at his hands. “I guess so.”

 

He thought back to earlier that day, when Joshua had found him beside the river. How happy he’d been to see Joshua, and at the same time, how utterly devastated. He wanted nothing more than to leave this hell and go home, but there was only one way to do that. Jeonghan didn’t even know if he  _ could  _ do it, but he did know that if he did, he would never be able to forgive himself.

 

Why couldn’t they have just stayed on the roof that night? Everything had been so  _ right  _ then. Why hadn’t they just stayed?

 

“We should start dinner,” Joshua said after a while. “I’ve set up some snares near the river; there should be something in them. I’ll start the fire if you can go check them.” 

 

He wasn’t looking at Jeonghan as he spoke, but his voice was quiet, calm. Assured. Whatever he’d been struggling with before had clearly been resolved, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel relieved.

 

“Sure,” he said, eager to do something useful at last. “Do you want me to bring back water, too?”

 

“I have water here,” Joshua said, smiling, “but if you’d like, you can bring some. Don’t hurry back, we have all the time in the world.”

 

That wasn’t true, of course. For one of them, their days were numbered. But for now, Jeonghan was okay with pretending.

~~~

The woods were cloaked in shadow and Jeonghan had trouble finding the river. There were a few snares set out, as Joshua had said, and one of them held a rabbit. The others were empty, but a whole rabbit was more than Jeonghan could have ever dreamed of. Quickly, he freed the rabbit from the snare and began to jog back. It was very nearly nighttime, and he was eager to get back.

 

He realized something was wrong before he even saw the camp. There was no flicker of flame, no curl of smoke from the fire Joshua had promised to start. The birds had gone silent. It was as if the entire arena was holding its breath.

 

Panic sparked in Jeonghan and he began to run, ignoring the branches whipping his face and tearing his clothes, racing towards the camp with the desperation of a hunted animal.  _ Joshua,  _ he thought,  _ Joshua, Joshua, please- _

 

There was just enough light left to see Joshua’s body curled in the ground, clothes sodden with blood. There was no fire, not even the start of one. Just Joshua, the blood, and the knife hanging loosely between his fingers.

 

_ Jeonghan’s  _ knife.

 

Choking out a sob, Jeonghan staggered over and collapsed at Joshua’s side. In the unnatural silence, Jeonghan’s thoughts and emotions roared, building up a pressure in his head that made him want to scream and cry simultaneously.

 

It should have been him. It should have been Jeonghan who died. Not Joshua.

 

This was the boy who had breathed life into him that night on the roof. The boy who held his hand and spoke of the stars, of freedom, of a world where Jeonghan could live and love without fear. The boy who’d given Jeonghan his first taste of true happiness in a very, very long time.

 

Somewhere, a canon boomed.

**Author's Note:**

> :) oops
> 
>  
> 
>   
> [twt!](https://twitter.com/nebulakoos)  
>    
> [cc!](https://curiouscat.me/nebulakoos)


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